Pillow Talk

Who: Doc and Jocelyn
Where: The Martens house
When: late afternoon

The most staggering things were often the most human ones as well, Doc had often found. For all his learning; his doctorate, his degrees, his training and literal decades of research? His mind was as narrow and focused as any man's could be in moments like these. He was zeroed in on heat, the flush of Jocelyn's skin pulled snugly against his, and the taste of her mouth. His whole world was, in fact, limited to the confines of his mattress and their place in it where he held her encircled in a blanket, seated in his lap. He could feel his heart still beating frantically in his chest as he pulled her in against him as if there was still any real room between them, one hand letting the blanket go slack so that his fingers could snake up through her hair. "Mmm," he murred into her lips before pulling away, "I'm a fan of you being here, y'know..."

Jocelyn was happy. It was a rare feeling, but hard to ignore in these plain normal moments with Doc. "I'm certainly putting it in the running for my favorite thing." Leaning in she dropped her head a little and pressed a small kiss against his neck, just below his chin. There were so many concerns that tingling in the back of her mind, but she was ignoring them for the moment. Not that it was hard; Doc had always had an innate ability to commandeer all of her senses.

Whatever he did to her, it was something that he needed for his own sake. He understood himself, his failings and insecurities, the way his mind would sabotage the moments that made him happy. Usually? It was distance that did it. The more time he spent separated from Jocelyn or anyone else he cared about, the easier it was to focus on his worries, his tasks, and the inevitability of how things would end. But he knew that it would happen, and finally? Perhaps thirty years too late? Doc didn't want to do it any more. "Then... stay," he murmured as she kissed his neck, slowly reclining back against the wall and drawing Jocelyn with to let her settle against him. "When you have to go back to Babylon? Go. But don't stay there." He knew it was a big sentiment to hit her with, but it was a real one too. He wanted her here, where she could pull him away from his own treacherous thoughts and he could help her with her self doubts.

Jocelyn couldn't help it, but his question drew a gasp from her and her whole body flinched. Had she been hoping he'd ask? Yes. But hearing it was a different story. Pulling back she eyed him closely, trying very hard not to assume there was some sort of catch. "Here, as in, here? Like, live here?"

Even if Doc had hoped she wouldn't react with that muted suspicion, he wasn't surprised when she did. He'd done wrong by Jocelyn in the past; withholding details, keeping her at a distance, forcing the barriers of work between them at times. She was right to be dubious. "Here as in here," he echoed, nodding slightly and reaching out to smooth a hand along her arm. "If... if you want to. The twins had to go, and I don't know when they'll be back, but I know that you and they never saw eye to eye, Joce. But... Syn told me once that all she really wanted was for me to be happy, to have a life I liked living. And it feels like that's with you."

He sat up slowly, savoring the dull ache in his muscles that came in the wake of making love and smiling helplessly. "I don't want to just be your excuse for changing jobs at Babylon. I don't ever want you to think that you're an employee who I get special benefits from. I'm here because I want to be here. Not anywhere else. I'm a dirty old man for you," Doc teased with a grin, "But you make me smile so much that I don't care."

Jocelyn listened intently, letting him talk without interrupting. She gave him a small smile and gently touched his cheek, right over the barcode tattoo. "I think even if you are my reason for changing jobs, I don't think that's a bad thing. It was a lonely life working at Babylon like I was. It's why I was able to keep my heart closed off for so long. That's not exactly a good thing." She didn't answer yet, tell him what she wanted. There were too many reasons to just jump at the offer without thinking it out. Call it turning over a new leaf, but she was trying to cool her impulsive nature.

Doc's head turned, lips pressing to the underside of Jocelyn's forearm fleetingly as he listened to her. Not for the first time, his heart ached for what she'd been through, what she'd lost. He knew precisely how far down the world could pull you by taking away one person, after all. "It's definitely not a good thing," he agreed, "Because you've got a good heart, a beautiful one. It's not something I think the world should be deprived of." He smiled then, a melancholy expression that spoke of understanding her pain, even if he couldn't know it. "And I've been there," Doc murmured, "I've shut myself away. Maybe for different reasons? But it doesn't hurt any less with a different reason. It's no less lonely."

Taking his head in her hands she pulled him up to look into her eyes. "You helped with that, helped me get better with that. You and Grayson. If someone had asked me a month ago if I'd ever love again, I wouldn't have believed them, but I also would have been so very wrong." Leaning in she kissed his forehead gently. "I don't want to be lonely anymore."

The sorrow faded from Doc's smile as she spoke, growing strong and steady with the confidence that they both wanted this. That they were this. "I was told a story once, a long time ago," he said in a quiet voice, "About people like me, where we came from. The story said that in the first days? There was nothing, but there was everything. It was all one and the same, it was all pure. And in time, it birthed nine beings, the Pure Ones. They were... they were themselves, but they were each other as well, if that makes sense. They came from the same place, they were offshoots of the same idea."

It was one of Doc's favorite stories, even if he'd never know if it was true or not, but he loved to tell it. "So in those days, the Pure Ones fashioned our world," he went on in a low, soothing tone, "And they took joy in every moment of it. One made the first bird, and the others spent time we can't fathom creating endless variations of size, color, and breed. One spawned the sea, one filled it with life, one made the tides and the flow of hot and cold within the waters. So on and so on until we had a real meaning for everything. And... when all that was left was the empty skies at night? The Pure Ones shattered. Their pieces fell upward to form the stars, their pieces fell down to birth my kind, shapeshifters, the first witches, and more. It was their final gift, but it was also the first time any of them ever felt alone. They were only fragments now."

He sighed quietly, shaking his head at himself and crooking a grin at Jocelyn. "And here I go rambling again," Doc teased, "Senility and all. That was always the end of the story, as I was told. But to me, it isn't. If they were alone, and if they never were in those first days? Then all we should hope for is to connect with someone else, to find another fragment, even if it doesn't make them whole. It makes us whole."

She'd listened to the story with childlike wonder, amazed by it. The idea of the ultimate sacrifice, to be lonely forever, to give up everything for lesser beings of themselves. It reminded her vaguely of the story of Christ, but then she assumed most of those stories, no matter their origins were linked because of the ease at which people believed them. What touched her more though was his end to the story. That perhaps those in the world who were different were all actually the same. Even though she'd not been ostracized in life for being a witch, the idea still hit home. "And with me, do you feel whole?"

The answer came, at first, in the form of a kiss. He leaned in low, pressing up into Jocelyn's lips with a slow fervor that banished the fatigue from his body and sent a thrill down his spine, the feeling lingering even after Doc pulled away. "I feel confused, sometimes. Strained, others. Worried that I'll fail you. I feel every kind of anxiety I know about, and odd as it sounds? I like it. Because the idea of not having you with me stretches me beyond thin. So... yes. With you, I'm more than I was." With her, with his kids, with Kayos and Grayson and the scant handful of others Doc relied on? All of them were more than just one piece. But this? This was a different sort of completion, one he couldn't capture in words.

She indulged in the kiss fully, putting all her heart into it. Jocelyn knew full well that she hadn't told him yet that she wanted to move in, and she assumed he was probably waiting on the answer. "I feel the same way, but I think that's natural. I remember feeling like that with Jean, hoping that I could live up to what he wanted. I was younger then though and the expectations were different, but they were will there." She kissed him again, not as eagerly this time, but still with passion. "What matters is what's there underneath all that. If what's beyond that is that more complete feeling? Then that's what matters."

"That's why I'm here," Doc murmured, traipsing his fingertips one by one down Jocelyn's back and brushing them along the edges of her tattoo. "Whatever bad thinking I get hit with? Old age making me stubborn or doubtful? This is worth facing it. You're worth facing it." Doc sighed, his hand drifting lower to settle at Jocelyn's waist as he savored how their bodies fit together so flawlessly. "I don't want to regret something I can change, Joce. I'm tired of living life at arms' reach, especially when someone like you is closer..."

Jocelyn let herself react to his touch, back arching just a bit as his hands moved down it. She agreed with what he was saying, and the kiss she gave him showed that. "I'm here Eric. I always will be. You know that," she whispered softly. The happiness was there, in her voice and in her eyes. Despite everything that seemed hell bent on pulling them apart, Doc wasn't giving in. He was pulling her closer and she was both excited and relieved. Up until now she was almost certain he'd decide to walk away and give up on them.

It was a valid fear for her to have, because it was one Doc still lived with daily. His tasks took him literally across the world at a moment's notice, and there was no doubt in his mind that they'd get far worse before they got any better. But he had a life, and here and now? He wasn't going to let himself be scared. "Whatever happens? Where ever I go? I'll come back to you," he replied, voice low but somehow solid, "I promise..." Something as simple as his name on her lips sent a thrill through Doc, cementing the feeling that he wasn't War. He was this man, living this moment, and that definition was more than enough to live with.

Unable to speak, Jocelyn just bit her lip to hold back tears and nodded. It was what she wanted to hear, what she needed to hear. A promise that he wouldn't leave and not come back. It was more than she'd had before. Even though it seemed like a ridiculous thing to promise, she believed he'd live up to it. That he could live up to it. When he was gone would be hard, but she had Grayson to lean on and she was certain between the two of them she could manage.

Some people might have wanted soft words to confirm a pledge like that, but not him. The shine in her eyes said plenty, and the way her breath hitched in Jocelyn's throat as she bit at her lip told Doc that she understood. They would be lonely at times, strained to the point of breaking, but they could endure. Not just him, because he was a man who lived by his promises. Both of them could. For once, there was nothing else to say, so he didn't. Doc reached up to Jocelyn's chin, gently freeing her lip from her teeth and drawing her towards him as he pushed up underneath her, lips shaking slightly against hers.

Jocelyn gave into his kiss, feeling more apt to express herself through actions than words. It made sense, words had failed her so much lately. She pulled him close, hands tangling in his hair, the rest of her body following suite, sliding as close to him as she could manage. Finally releasing from his kiss, she breathed lightly against his lips, mind swimming slightly, she breathed words she didn't think she'd ever say again. "I love you."

His heart twisted in his chest when the words hit his ears, hands tightening on Jocelyn. Could he say it? When had been the last time? Was she even alive back then? Doc's gut knotted as he breathed against her lips, steeling himself. It was supposed to be uncertain, right? And anxious and worried? Wasn't the feeling more in the panic he felt at the idea of not having her than the certainty he always thought he was supposed to feel? Doc gripped that idea tight, reaching up to ease one of Jocelyn's hands from his hair and down his cheek, resting her fingers with his behind the corner of his jaw.

"I love you, Jocelyn Laurent," he murmured as his fingertip guided hers past an invisible edge, perfectly blended with his own skin, "And I want you to see me..." Then? He showed her, coaxing Jocelyn's finger with his as Doc peeled away a thin strip that had blended with his flesh, slowly uncovering a long and ragged scar that ran the length of his jawline. It was only the first, and he wasn't sure if he wanted her to be scared away before they were all uncovered or not.

Her eyes glistened with his admission, but the breath caught in her throat as his scar was uncovered. It was hard not be caught off guard by the damage, but what surprised her more was his ability to hide it. Syn had told her he was capable of so much, that she should just ask. Jocelyn had learned quickly that sometimes asking wasn't always the best way to learn details with Doc, he'd give an cursory explanation, but if she gave him time, he'd tell her everything. Or in this case show her everything. Sliding a gentle finger along the scar she studied it closely. "What did it?" Not how, not why, just what sort of weapon.

The little concealing strip was dropped without a thought; Doc would reapply them later, when it was time. Sometimes he laughed when he went through the process. 'Time to put on my face for the world', he'd tell himself. There was no laughter now, just a solemn look as he tried to hold onto the pinnacle of feeling they were sharing, use it as courage to keep going. "Bullets," he said plainly, keeping Joce's hand held as he moved it up his cheek. The key of what came next was there in that one word. Bullets. Plural.

Another was stripped away by the peak of his ear, a deeper furrow that disappeared back into his hair before Doc kept at it, peeling off two lines on one side of his forehead. "We have... limits. No one thought mine could touch a full clip in mid-air," he murmured, remembering how close he'd been to death even with the bare redirection he'd achieved. Gradually, he revealed a man who was tiger-striped, disfigured in most senses, truly worn down by what he'd chosen for his life. And finally, he brought Jocelyn's hand back to his cheek, head turning to kiss her palm before Doc pinched at his cheek bone, pulling away a much larger wad that covered the entry scar of a bullet that had smashed in just below his eye on his un-inked cheek.

Maybe she'd stopped breathing, just trying hard to take it all in without too much shock. It was impossible for her to keep it off her face though, it always was. Her fingers traced the scars, just as they had traced the scars on his chest the first night they'd met. "How did it not kill you?"

"It did," Doc answered plainly, keeping his flinch of shame over her reaction to a tightening at the corners of his eyes. "But... I used to know some talented healers, and I had partners who just wouldn't accept that I was out." Partners like Kayos, though he wasn't going to bring her up in a moment like this. They were too close right now, but some day? He thought Jocelyn might trust Kayos more if she knew how responsible the other woman had been at keeping Doc alive. "All told, I think I've crossed the threshold maybe... four or five times. Been right on it another five."

Jocelyn pondered this in her mind. She'd known some powerful witches, she'd been raised by some powerful witches. Healing from the dead was possible, but damn was it hard. Hell in some ways it was less than kosher. She couldn't imagine Doc aligning himself with dark magic, even if it was to save his life. "So many times love?" Her breathed hitched, memories of Jean's death suddenly flooding back. He'd died from a gunshot wound and yet here, Doc had lived.

"Maybe less?" Doc admitted, smiling a little both from faint amusement and from nerves at being seen without his customary appearance in place, "A lot of the time I'd wake up, bandaged and in bed with someone keeping an eye on me. Eventually, well, I had less people around. So I got better at stitching myself up, pushing things back inside, learning to control my own body." But he knew he'd been a broken heap of flesh before... "Believe it or not, what we do now is far less dangerous than what I did then. Used to have a bit of a reputation, people telling me they'd bought a round to mark my passing."

Jocelyn tried her best to smile, but her heart was too full for it to reach her eyes. Again she ran her hands across his cheeks, thumb resting on the scar below his eye, the same way she was prone to resting her thumb against the barcode tattoo on the opposite cheek. Gently she pressed a small kiss against the scar. At times she would wish she'd have some of her own to match, to bear her own pain on the outside, and yet hers lay buried under her skin, scars upon her heart.

He didn't quite repress the flinch there, limiting it to a quick inhale as Jocelyn kissed the deep divot that had once been his cheekbone. It was a wound that haunted Doc on the rare times that he slept, plaguing him with dreams of choking on blood, of losing his vision from sheer pain, and of a night when things hadn't ended there. "This didn't stop me," he murmured, smoothing a hand over her hair, "I won't let whatever comes next, either. I'll come back to you." Sure, he'd already said so, but to Doc, some promises were worth repeating.